Chapter 21: One Check

DAMON

I barely notice the dim upstairs hallway as I pass through it, or the cozy yellow glow of the light in my own uncluttered room. My mind is churning with thought of hunters and psychotic brothers and unknown blondes. I pause halfway between my closet and my oversized bed.

I want to find that bitch. Now.

It had to be the blonde hunter that Macgyver'ed Elena's porch and she's obviously been in town for a while without any of us seeing her. And okay, all she'd have to do was avoid the high school, the Grill and any event that started with the word "Founder's" but still. I should have spotted her already. I should have decapitated her last week.

My competing impulse to help Elena pack so she can move in is obviously the first sign of me going soft. Killing first, dating second, or you end up with a girlfriend wearing half a hardware store in the bloodiest way possible. Lesson learned.

"Care to join me?"

The soft voice erases dismemberment from my vocabulary.

I turn to see that not only did I not notice that my bathroom light was on, but I also overlooked the fact that Elena is in my tub, wearing nothing but bubbles.

It is obviously an act of God that this blonde assassin hasn't had me buried since last week.

Still, hunting the hunter feels suddenly much less urgent. I swivel and stride toward the bathroom. I'm up to my knees in bubbles before Elena squeaks and reaches out to stop me, laughing.

"I was hoping you'd undress first."

"Were you?" I drawl.

I take off my ruined boot and pour the water out into the tub, tossing it onto the floor. "You ask, I strip. I'm easy like that."

I dump out my other boot and my soggy socks and unbutton my pants.

"Gross, now our bathwater has boot all over it," Elena teases, her face lit with happiness. It's nice to see her like that, especially on a day when she's just been evicted due to her brother's potential homicidal tendencies. I love this tub. It's magic.

"Are you suggesting I would wear unclean boots?"

She considers. "Actually, probably not." She waves an imperious hand. "Keep going. I was promised a show."

I leave my pants unbuttoned and pull my tee shirt over my head, twirling it playfully. She giggles, sinking deeper into the bubbles, which was not what I was hoping she'd do. Then I drop to my knees because hey, these pants aren't coming back from this little excursion and the price? So worth making her smile today.

I steady myself on the rim of the tub behind her and her eyes flash a new emotion as her smile fades and her lips part slightly. I take my time leaning into her, touching my lips to hers but letting her set the pace of the kiss. When her tongue teases its way into my mouth I have to fight back a groan.

My knee slips along the bottom of the tub and I encounter fabric where I was expecting just wet curls and silky skin.

Elena pulls away, her eyelashes flickering nervously and I sit back, trying to read this new set of mixed signals.

"I kept my underwear on. Like you suggested last time." She peeks up at me through her eyelashes. "I hope that's okay."

I flop back into a sitting position and am briefly thankful that today, I wore underwear.

"Elena. Are you actually, in all seriousness, asking me right now if I am unhappy that you are in my tub in your bra and panties?"

She blushes, a shy smile tugging at her lips. I prop my arms on the side of the tub and watch her, enchanted. She planned this whole risqué setup even though she doesn't actually have the guts to go Full Monty with me yet.

A fleeting ache passes through my chest and I have the totally absurd impulse to wrap her up in my biggest, fluffiest towel and tuck her safely into her own bed.

I settle for taking off my pants and wringing them out with great fanfare before dropping them squelchily onto the tile. This teases another giggle out of Elena, and I can't remember why I ever cared about hunters, curses, or anything else that's not sharing a bubble bath with me right now.

Her hair is up in a messy bun secured by a pen that I recognize as the thousand dollar Mont Blanc I left on my bedside table. I decide that Mont Blanc should be paying her to do their commercials.

I splash noisily as I settle myself in, propping my legs on either side of Elena's hips and lifting her feet so that one drapes over my right thigh and the other is cradled in my hands as I dig my thumb expertly into the arch of her foot.

"Mmm," she murmurs encouragingly, her eyelids drooping in response.

It's hard, looking at her like this, not to remember sharing this same bathtub with Andie while I explained that I couldn't ever have Elena. Not because she was with Stefan, because come on, like I can't recognize a doomed high school romance after 146 years of people watching.

No, just because I love violence and murder and revenge and things not ever dreamt of by the adorable brown-eyed girl currently pretending not to watch me through her eyelashes.

But the whole world has changed since that conversation with Andie.

Now I've seen that same innocent girl standing knee deep in a grave, protecting her family and cleaning up her own mess afterward. I'd seen her stab an Original in the back and practice taking me out with a crossbow.

I'm so fucking proud of her.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks quietly as I finish with her right foot and rest it on my leg, reaching for the other.

"I was thinking about how badass you looked earlier going for Kyle's throat," I say with a grin.

She snorts. "You mean how badass I looked whimpering like a little girl when he hit me with his vervain glove? I've got to start building my vervain tolerance."

"I wouldn't be too awful eager if I were you. I'd think your masochism would have been fully satisfied by Kyle's morality-through-musicals speech. That was as much suffering as I plan to do all year."

"I think it's kind of cute."

"You would," I complain. "Let's leave the hunters out of the tub, shall we? Did you already move in while I wasn't looking?"

"I thought I'd do it tomorrow. It's late."

"Yes," I snap. "Because obviously moves made necessary by your brother's newly psychotic nature can wait for your earliest convenience."

She smirks. "Gotcha. Seriously though, I didn't want to pack tonight."

I narrow my eyes at her, but it's pretty impossible to stay mad when I can see her soggy black bra strap slipping off her shoulder. It has tiny purple hearts on it.

"If you're very nice to me, I'll let you borrow a shirt to sleep in. Did you pick a room?"

"Right down the hall." She bats her eyelashes at me teasingly. "We're neighbors."

I trail my hand down her taut calf, smoothing my fingers across the sensitive place on the inside of her knee. "I'll have to think of a good housewarming gift."

I hold her gaze, listening to her breathing quicken. "I try to be very friendly…to my neighbors."

"Muffins," she says breathlessly.

"Come again?"

"I like muffins. For a housewarming gift," she clarifies.

I chuckle. "Duly noted. I was thinking something lacier, but it's been a long time since I've reviewed my Emily Post."

Her hand curls around my ankle under the cover of the water. "Damon?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't think Jeremy would actually-" her tears haven't made it past her eyelashes yet. But they will.

Ah hell.

"Come here," I hold out my hands for her.

She moves in a rush to my side of the bathtub, curling into my chest with a little hiccup of a sob. I close my eyes and turn her so that her back is to my chest. I thread our fingers together and wrap her in my arms and her own.

"Not if it was up to him, Elena. He would never."

She ducks her head, tucking it more tightly in under my chin. "But he might anyway."

"We'll have to see. We don't know what the effect of the mark will be and once we know, he can learn to fight it. Just like we all learned to fight the bloodlust. Just like Tyler learned to control his temper. There's always a choice, Elena."

"Like I learned to control it?" she laughs bitterly. "I'm a killer, too, Damon."

"Your first kill was to protect Jeremy, and both of his have been to protect you. There's always a choice, and you both made it." I kiss her hair. "I love you," I remind her quietly.

She catches her breath, then melts against me even more. "I love you, too. I don't know how I'd do any of this without you."

"You did, though. For two months while I was off trying to play the good brother." I smile wryly. "Which I suck at. News to nobody."

Elena tips her head back and kisses the underside of my jaw. "You're a better brother when you're here."

"I'm a better everything when I'm here," I tell her. I wouldn't mind it if she never found out how true that statement is.

"You make a pretty good rubber ducky," she says lightly.

"I'm a very multi-purpose bath toy. I'll show you, sometime." I dip my head and taste the nape of her neck, scraping my teeth over the soft skin that is usually hidden by her hair. She shivers and squirms a little against me, her feet rubbing over mine. I use my longer toes to pinch her foot playfully. She squeaks and tries to pull away, splashing me. I hold onto her and nibble her ear in a flirtatious warning.

"Stop getting water all over my bathroom, woman."

"I think you took care of that already," she says, looking at my wet clothes.

I shrug. "When there's a naked Elena in your tub, it's best not to waste any time."

She sighs and snuggles against me, the warm water lapping around us.

"Seriously, though. What are we going to do about Jeremy?"

My heart gives an eager leap at her use of the word "we."

"Don't worry about Jeremy. I've got plenty of practice dealing with brothers with poor impulse control."

"What if we lose him to it?" she whispers. "Like we lost Stefan?"

"I'm not going to let that happen, Elena. Trust me."

DAMON

When I told Elena to trust me, I was hoping to keep her from asking too many questions because I doubt our priorities are exactly aligned on this brother/vampire hunter affair. I'm well-acquainted with the vortex of bad luck that is our hometown, so my first, last and only goal here is to avoid a vampire hunter shitstorm with Jeremy at its center.

We tried keeping him safe and ignorant once, and all it got me was a baseball bat to the head from the first Original to find him and use him as a pawn. This time is going to be different.

First step? Cut the apron strings, toss him in the water and hope he swims.

I walk into the Grill and look around but don't see Jeremy. Kyle gives me a nod that I don't return. Instead I push through the doors into the back room. Jeremy's back there, unloading a food delivery onto the shelves.

"Heads," I say by way of greeting. He catches the keys I toss to him. His reflexes are definitely faster than they used to be. It's going to be interesting to see what all comes along with this hunter thing.

"What are these?"

"Keys to your car."

He looks at me, puzzled. "Huh?"

"The tooth fairy brought it. Don't scratch the paint. She hates that shit."

"Dude, Damon, did you buy me a car?" He's looking more alarmed than grateful. Kids these days.

"Think of it more like a loan, until I decide I don't need you to have it anymore."

He tosses the keys back to me. "No way. I can't accept that."

"Don't give me that polite crap. What's the point of having a hunter if he has to call for a ride every time you need him to kill somebody for you?" I throw the keys back, and this time he holds onto them.

"So does that mean you're not going to stop me from helping?"

"Hey, you're not my little brother," I say blandly. "But you're going to have to learn to fight."

"I told you, Connor and Ric have been showing me stuff." His eyes flash with anger, and for a second I think he's going to throw a punch.

"That's great and all, but ghosts aren't that useful for sparring and you need to start figuring out how to combat vampire speed." I blur across the room and have him by the throat before he can blink. "Starting today."

I wait, but he doesn't retaliate. We'll have to fix that.

I smirk. "Or tomorrow, since you have to work."

"Are you going to tell Elena you're training me to be a hunter?"

"Hey, don't think for a second I'm going to take you around letting you butcher your way into a full set of tats. As far as I'm concerned, a human vampire hunter is just a tombstone waiting to happen, and your Catch-22 ring is a shitty solution. But odds are if you're a hunter, trouble is going to find you. I am giving you transportation and an extensive knowledge of ass-kicking specifically so your sister can call you for help instead of the other way around. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bartender to interrogate."

"Damon," Jeremy catches my sleeve. "Don't hurt him."

I shake him off. "First hunter tip: There will be collateral damage. Get over it."

"Damon," he says again, more quietly.

"Hey, just because we're in the back room and I just gave you a car, don't feel like you have to put out," I drawl.

His eyes are on my chest instead of my face and he doesn't even seem to register my sarcasm. "When I got to work, I found a stake in my jacket pocket."

I frown. "What? Who put it there?"

"I think I did," he says shakily, tearing his eyes from my chest with a visible effort. I notice for the first time that there are dark circles under his eyes.

"I can't stop thinking about it. It's like a song that's stuck in my head. I can feel exactly how it would feel to shove a stake in, how it pushes through skin and then muscle, scrapes the bone. But I've never staked anyone. How do I know what it feels like?"

I don't answer him.

"What am I going to do?" he whispers.

My teeth creak under the pressure of my jaw. "You're going to pay better attention to what you're doing. And you're going to be fucking honest with yourself. Don't play the justification game with this hunter crap. It's not you, but it wants you to think that it is."

He nods. I don't know what else to tell him, so I give him one last look. I can't see the murderer in his eyes. Not yet.

I push through the door back into the main section of the Grill and settle into my regular seat. There's already a bourbon waiting for me, and one for Ric.

I look coolly at Kyle. "Sucking up? Maybe I'm not a day drinker."

Kyle takes a glass, tosses it end over end and catches it smoothly in his other hand.

Eight seconds later, he slams a Shirley Temple down in front of me. The soda splashes out onto my hand as he tosses a cherry on top.

"Think of it as an apology."

I smile.

He tries to dodge me when I reach for him, but I'm faster, which is exactly what I wanted to prove. I squeeze his wrist until I feel the bones shift, the smaller ones just on the edge of snapping. Lines of strain appear around Kyle's eyes.

Jeremy pushes out of the back room. Even in my peripheral vision I can see his muscles flexing as his hands ball into fists. This is a good test. For all of us.

"Elena is not on the list of acceptable hostages in this town," I say softly. "Do you understand me?"

"Who is on the list of acceptable hostages?" he asks dryly.

"Everyone else. I'm perfectly happy to spend a diverting afternoon kicking the shit out of you to rescue any of the rest of these yahoos."

Kyle looks amused despite the deepening lines of pain in his face. "I can live with that."

I release him and pick up my bourbon, smiling a very artificial smile. "So, Kyle, tell me. If you're such a badass, why did you let Elena feed off you despite not really being compelled?"

Jeremy slams through the doors back into the store room. Not bad. He's acting like a new werewolf right now, but he hasn't lost his temper yet.

"Wouldn't it be better to have this talk in private?" Kyle asks.

"Ten o'clock in the morning on a Tuesday?" I glance around the deserted restaurant. "This is more private than my house."

Kyle shrugs. "It was a choice," he says, picking up a glass to polish even though I know his wrist must be screaming as loudly as a three-section brass band.

"Mmm, try a less assholish answer," I suggest.

"What if I'm actually an asshole?" he says with a raised eyebrow.

I crack a smile. "Touché."

"I wasn't ready to reveal myself. And it was a friend of mine who put Elena in the state she was in."

"Hopefully not a friend you're particularly attached to."

"I'm hoping we can work out a deal about that."

I take another sip of bourbon and ignore that statement. "Next question. Why is the traditional weapon of a vampire hunter a metal sword? I mean, it's got a bit more flair than a sharpened broom handle, but sometimes you just have to sacrifice style for function, you know what I mean?"

Kyle pulls a bar napkin toward him and fishes a pen out of his apron. He makes a quick sketch and then turns it toward me. "Have you ever seen this symbol before?"

"Yup," I tell him without elaborating. It's the symbol on the hunter's sword that Klaus retrieved, the symbol that was on Connor's wooden bullets.

Kyle looks me in the eye. "You realize that according to the Hunter's Code, I can be executed for sharing this information with a vampire?"

"Something tells me you're far past the misdemeanor infraction as far as the Hunter's Code is concerned."

He cocks his head, a smile playing across his lips. "You've got that right. Anyway, this symbol is bound up with the spell that gave us our power. Anything inscribed with it gains the power to kill a vampire."

"So what, you're gonna attack me with your big bad bar napkin now?" I taunt.

Kyle smiles, and slaps the paper square down on my arm before I have a chance to blink.

I yelp and grab his wrist, intent on breaking it. He twists away, taking the Cocktail Napkin of Doom with him.

I pick up my drink, keeping my face blank so he won't see how much that hurt. "Okay, so like super-vervain," I say neutrally, making a mental note to get creative with his respiratory system sometime later, when we figure out a cure for that pesky hunter death curse.

"Very similar in its effects though not identical, as I'm sure you saw from Elena's ordeal," Kyle winces and his voice drops into a more casual register. "You know, I really do like that girl. I know you're pissed at me for the vervain glove thing but I just couldn't bring myself to stake her, you know?"

I smile humorlessly. "Yeah, I know. That doesn't mean I'm not tempted to soak that glove of yours in battery acid and cram it down your throat."

"Yeah, I could see that," he says sympathetically.

I scowl at him.

"Right, right," he says, holding up his hands. "It's all blood and guts with you. None of that other squishy stuff."

"Guts are squishy," I tell him. "Once they're removed."

Kyle rolls his eyes at me.

"So are you telling me that your hunter friend is OCD enough to scratch this mark on every nail in that booby trap?" I ask, changing the subject.

"No," he laughs. "Even she's not that dedicated. But you can transfer the magical essence of the mark into a substance with a ritual. I think a witch could explain it better than I can." He shrugs. "It usually takes less energy to just write a mark on it. Even tee shirt paint works. You know, those puffy, glittery paints," he says, his voice getting more overtly feminine with every sentence.

His eyes are wide and innocent. I frown. The dude is messing with me.

I widen my eyes just a touch to draw attention to them, and then let them drift down his chest, landing squarely on his crotch. I lean forward.

"Do they write on-" I lock my gaze with his, "leather?"

Kyle catches his breath as his pupils dilate and then he blinks and starts to laugh.

I settle back on my barstool and narrow my eyes sourly at him. "Fuck you. I'm not a redneck, and I invented the discomfit-the-enemy strategy."

He refills my glass with a smile. "On the house, Salvatore."

"So why would your friend go to the trouble to transfer the energy of a hunter's mark onto a bunch of nails that wouldn't make it to her heart?"

Kyle leans his hip against the bar, his voice back to normal. "Because she didn't want to actually kill Elena. My bet? She was flexing her muscles. Marian is a little alpha wolf, if you know what I mean. It's not enough to kill vampires. She wants power over them, wants to control them." The amusement is gone from his expression. "She wants the Source. To get it, she's going to need Jeremy's mark, so you can bet your sweet ass that she's going to try to talk him into going hunting with her."

He dumps my untouched Shirley Temple into the sink and looks grim. "Thanks to that little stunt of hers, she now has a list of most of the vampires in this town, or at least all of the ones who rode to the rescue when she set off her booby trap."

His hazel eyes drill into me with an intensity that makes me wonder how I ever wrote him off as a threat. "Don't underestimate her. She's smart and she's as vicious as any she-bitch you can imagine."

I hear a familiar laugh and look over my shoulder to see Caroline coming in with Stefan who is, stop the press, actually smiling.

"How long has that been going on?"

Kyle follows my gaze. "Cosmo in a lemonade glass for camouflage and Scotch, no ice, in a coffee cup. They play a lot of pool, but they still pay for their drinks separately."

"Huh. Not much for carding, are you?"

"I like my vampires better a little buzzed, thanks," he says dryly. "I'm sure you can guess why."

Stefan takes up a spot at the bar to my right. "Brother."

I tip my drink in his direction and Stefan turns his attention to the bartender with his Ripper smile. I wonder if he's been basement binging again. I might have to start taking inventory.

"Do you like history, Kyle?" Stefan asks, in what would sound like a friendly voice to someone who hadn't had to clean up one of his crime scenes.

"Sure," Kyle says neutrally.

"There was a hunter in town once," Stefan says. "Tried to stake Elena. No one has seen him in a while. Strange. He was a pretty tough guy."

"You know, there was a bartender, too," Caroline says, her smile not reaching her eyes. "Kidnapped Elena. What happened to him, Stefan?"

"Hard to say," Stefan says, his eyes still on Kyle. "But I guess there was a job opening, or you wouldn't have moved here, huh?"

Kyle sighs. "Is this going to go on all day? You know, I attacked him, too," he says, hooking a thumb in my direction. "Isn't anybody going to threaten me on his behalf?"

Stefan and Caroline look at each other, then at me. No one speaks up.

"On that note." I drain Ric's drink and stand. "Go ahead and put my drinks on their tab."

"Which check?" Kyle asks.

"Looks like one check to me," I tell him.